


Mermaid's Hair

by cosmosmariner



Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-11
Updated: 2010-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 09:19:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmosmariner/pseuds/cosmosmariner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya thinks back to a childhood memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mermaid's Hair

The ocean was tempestuous in nature; the angry surf and roar of the waves crashing into the rocks would be scary to most children. Illya Kuryakin was not an ordinary child. He loved the ocean because it made him feel free. His father would say that he had too much imagination. Certainly, he had an imagination like any other child - he was a fairy tale prince, a brave soldier, one of the Three Musketeers. He never thought it was any different or any worse than the children he went to school with.

His father was under the age old impression that children should be seen and not heard. His mother, on the other hand, thought that it was important for children to bloom and play. That was why she took Illya to the sea on holiday; the cruelness of the world was fast approaching the Kuryakin family and this might be the last chance for her son to experience what he loved so much - the unencumbered joy of being a child.

Illya stood next to the shore, feeling the spray on his face. “Mama!” the boy exclaimed. “Come see!”

Mrs. Kuryakin walked closer to her son. The parasol that she carried to shield her from the sun cast a shadow on the small, golden haired boy that gleefully played in the tide. “My sweet Illyusha. What is it?”

The boy bent down and picked up a small brown item from the rocky shoreline. “This, Mama. What is this?”

His mother smiled; her blue eyes shining with happiness. “Ah. This, my son…this is mermaid hair. You are a most fortunate little boy!”

He turned his face toward his mother. The sun glowed behind her, giving her a halo around the parasol. “Mermaid hair?” he asked in awe.

“Yes, darling. Mermaids come to the beach looking for their one true love. They search and search, and when they can’t find them, they leave a piece of them behind. When someone finds it, it’s supposed to be good luck. They will find their true love one day, since the mermaid cannot.”

“Oh, Mama. That’s so sad! Can I give it back to the mermaid?” Illya inquired. 

“No, no, angel. You cannot give it back to the mermaid. It’s yours, forever, until you meet your true love. Keep it in a safe place, my lamb. Promise?”

“Yes, Mama. I will,” he swore solemnly, his eyes wide and hopeful.

\--

Home was not a happy place for the boy. His father was not one for toys, so his playtime pursuits consisted of reading and music. Somehow, his mother persuaded her husband to allow a guitar in the home, and Illya took deep delight in learning its secrets.

He began sketching as a way to pass time. His mother encouraged him, his father barely noticed. He found that he drew fantastic creatures: dragons, unicorns…and mermaids.

The mermaid always looked the same; long, wavy brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, a wry yet sweet smile. There was something strong and capable about the mermaid, as if the creature would be able to take care of itself in or out of the water. The strange thing, though, was that it wasn’t really a mermaid, but a merman. Illya wondered why his mind would wander towards that detail, but it was there, and it seemed as real to him as anything else in his life.

Late at night, when the family went to bed, Illya would take out his favorite book and turn to the back page. There, nestled between two pieces of tissue paper, was the mermaid’s hair. He would hold it in his hands, wishing for someone to talk to, someone to share the secrets of his heart. He was so lonely, so very lonely, and it crushed him daily.

He knew how the mermaid felt.

\--

TWENTY-TWO YEARS LATER

Napoleon Solo emerged from the water, shaking off the excess and barely slowing down. He ran after the two THRUSH agents. Illya darted out from seemingly nowhere, apprehending the men. Napoleon caught up and grabbed one of them, subduing his subject.

“Nice work, partner.”

“Thank you.”

Napoleon’s hair hung lank on his forehead. He smiled at Illya, and it shot to his core.  _The brown hair…the brown eyes…the shy, knowing smile…the cool confidence._

The merman. It couldn’t be.

When he went back to his apartment, he took the book down from his shelf. He had carried it around with him for years, keeping the promise to Mama. When he turned to the back of the book, the mermaid’s hair fell down onto the floor.

It wasn’t really mermaid hair; he knew that for years. It was only a type of seaweed. However, the child that was still alive in his soul kept the faith. He touched the mermaid’s hair. Soft, brown…so many feelings flooded him. The love of his mother, the yearning for acceptance from his father, the confusion that he felt every time he looked at Napoleon.

Napoleon.  _Ah, Napoleon._

He looked at the mermaid’s hair. You kept the mermaid’s hair until you met your true love, Mama said.

 _Well, Mama. I kept my promise,_  he thought. He let the mermaid’s hair float on the breeze out his open window, into the street below, where another child might find it and make the same wish he did as a little boy…

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an interesting photograph submitted by Svetlanacat4. Thank you!


End file.
